There is little more to tell of our friends. In the year which followed, that of 1813, they took the field again with Wellington, having meanwhile passed safely through the retreat from Burgos. Their corps saw service in the complicated battle of Vittoria, where the British were successful. Thence they helped at the capture of San Sebastian, while in October they actually marched into France, having driven the French from Spain altogether. The battle of Nivelle was then fought, Tom's men taking their part. The Nive was crossed after desperate skirmishing, and so the advance of the British force continued. Meanwhile, Napoleon's Russian disaster had set upon him a flood of enemies, all pressing for vengeance. To describe all that happened would need many a chapter; but in the end the power of Napoleon was shattered. He himself abdicated the throne of France, and was exiled to the island of Elba. Thence he escaped, and gathered the flower and manhood of France once more about him. But it was his fate to meet Wellington yet again. On the field of Waterloo that great general, with the help of the Germans, broke his army to pieces. A fugitive, Napoleon handed himself into the care of the British, and thenceforward was exiled in St. Helena, where, amid the cacti and the ferns, he died peacefully in the truckle bed which had followed him on his campaigns.
For Jack and Tom we have something more to say. The former was a captain at the end of the Peninsula War; Tom a colonel, the youngest in the army. Minus one arm, he looked, if anything, rather more fetching in his uniform than formerly, for he served on the commander-in-chief's staff at home till he retired. Then Jack went also. Cast your eyes back at the house of Septimus John Clifford & Son. It's not so very long ago that the old head of the firm could be seen asleep beneath the shade of that mulberry tree. He was full of years and kindness. A white-haired clerk sat often beside him, a relic of the faithful lot who were there when Tom was a boy. And there were children about, Tom's, for he had left the service and married. Jack Barwood had married Marguerite, and he and his old friend met daily at the office, for they were partners, while Alfonso managed in Oporto.
Thus our tale comes to an end. We take off our hats to Tom and his fellows. They helped to break down the menace which threatened England.
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
At the Villafield Press, Glasgow, Scotland
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious typographical errors were repaired, but stylistic and valid archaic spellings were retained.
All illustrations, except for the frontispiece, were relocated to the text describing their action.